


Pink in the Middle

by sawbones



Series: soft to the touch [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: M/M, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 00:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11680032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawbones/pseuds/sawbones
Summary: “You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are,” she said, pausing to take a sip of her own drink, “The human might be clueless but you’re making every turian in here cringe with secondhand embarrassment every time you speak to him.”“Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? I am your superior and you are crossing a line here,” Kandros said, though his high flange made it clear he was more embarrassed than angry.“Oh can it, Tiran,” Trooper said, tossing back the last of her drink, “This isn’t Palaven, and I’m not the one sitting here with my slit hanging open like a broken airlock.”





	Pink in the Middle

**Author's Note:**

> It is highly recommended you read the first part! A continuation of Tiran exploring his human fetish, briefly featuring some of my beloved MP OCs.
> 
> Much love to [yoursquadisgay](http://yoursquadisgay.tumblr.com/) for partially betaing this!

Kandros didn’t have time for the cold shower he’d promised himself. He made do with splashing himself with water in the Operations restroom sink like he was having a field bath instead. It wasn’t ideal, but it was enough. Since the mission had went off without a hitch, the standard paperwork didn’t take long, but he still had his daily debrief with Tann to endure.

“I still don’t see why exactly the Pathfinder was brought along for this, it barely qualified for APEX mission status,” Tann said as he flicked through the report, able to read and process entire pages in just a few seconds, “Seems like a waste of resources.” 

Since Tann was too ‘busy’ to even look him in the eye when he talked, Kandros didn’t bother suppressing the twitch of annoyance from his mandibles when he implied that Ryder was simply a resource, or that any strike team missions weren’t worth his time. 

“Ryder asked to come,” Kandros said. Not strictly the truth, but Ryder had said he’d be ‘happy to help’, and that was close enough.

Tann lowered the data pad. He looked sceptical, “Did he mention why?”

“He didn’t tell, I didn’t ask. I wasn’t going to look in a gift’s mouth, as humans say,” Kandros said, “Pathfinder business, I’m guessing.”

Tann frowned but didn’t press further. Kandros had found flashing the Pathfinder’s name sometimes deterred the Director from getting too far up his ass. Kesh did it too, even Addison when she was  _ really _ sick of his shit. It seemed Ryder’s good work had earned him a little wiggle room with Tann that the rest were only too grateful to take advantage of.

“In any case--” Tann began again, only to be cut off by a loud chirp from Kandros’ comms device. They both ignored it, but then it chirped again, “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Kandros kept his mandibles tucked close to his mouth as he opened his omni-tool. It was a message from one of the APEX team members, the human soldier Ryder had been talking to. Kandros had a good relationship with her: she was a hell of a shot, and tough as they came, but she had a gregariousness about her that worked as an excellent binder for more difficult team compositions, something Kandros deeply appreciated. It was easy to get too many clashing egos in a high-risk-high-reward kind of environment like APEX.

_ debriefing in vortex? first rounds on me! ~wo (winky turian) scotty says hi - bobbie _

Occasionally, she struggled to toe the line of professionalism.

“This better be important,” Tann warned.

“Strike team’s back earlier than I thought,” Kandros said, trying to dampen the excited flange in his subvocals, “You have my report. Is there anything else you need?”

“I think we’re done here,” Tann said, taking the opportunity to dismiss him instead of risking the insult of Kandros walking out, “If you see Superintendent Kesh, please send her to my office. She’s late for her daily report and I am a busy man.”

Kandros was already on his way before Tann could even finish his sentence. He didn’t often join any of his team for drinks after missions. He usually kept it for times worth celebrating - or commiserating. Losses were rare, but a reality; it was good form for a leader to show face in times like that. This was the first time Ryder would be joining them. It was a better excuse than most to stick around for a while.

Kandros fired off a quick confirmation to Bobbie and closed his omnitool.

 

\--

 

The music in Vortex wasn’t too loud, but that didn’t stop his strike team’s resident shock trooper - also creatively nicknamed Trooper by her squadmates - from leaning in close to talk in his ear.

“Buy him a drink,” she said. Most of her subvocals were swallowed up by the bassline but they were still too casual, bordering on disrespectful. Kandros flattened his jaws.

“What?” he asked, like he didn’t know exactly what she was talking about.

“Buy him a drink,” she said again, this time gesturing to the dancefloor where Scott had been dragged off to by Bobbie under strict instructions to ‘let loose’. She was a very hard woman to say no to - the fact that she was a head taller and half a foot wider than Scott probably didn’t help. If she had been an asari, Kandros would have wagered she had krogan blood. Trooper clicked her teeth impatiently when she realised he’d stopped paying attention again, “That’s what they do, right? It’s part of the mating ritual. You buy them a few drinks and they’re yours.”

“Watch your tone, Trooper,” Kandros warned, shrugging her away from him. She sat back in her chair with a flair of silent amusement.

“You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are,” she said, pausing to take a sip of her own drink, “The human might be clueless but you’re making every turian in here cringe with secondhand embarrassment every time you speak to him.”

“Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? I am your superior and you are crossing a line here,” Kandros said, though his high flange made it clear he was more embarrassed than angry.

“Oh can it, Tiran,” Trooper said, tossing back the last of her drink, “This isn’t Palaven, and _ I’m _ not the one sitting here with my slit hanging open like a broken airlock.”

She set her cup down on the table with more force than necessary and got to her feet, making her way to the dancefloor. Kandros glowered at her as he nursed his brandy; she said something to Bobbie, more hand gestures than words, and they began to move to the bar. The human said something in response and Trooper’s jaws flared in laughter. He didn’t need to hear the joke to know what it was:  _ you know they named a drink after me here? It’s called a Concussive Shot! _

He didn’t bother to warn Trooper about a certain asari huntress who would probably take offense at how far down Bobbie’s back she let her claws rest. Figured that was punishment enough. Besides, Scott had taken the opportunity to slip back to the table while he could. He sat down heavily in the chair next to Kandros; his cheeks were flushed and the hair at his temples was damp. 

Kandros wanted to touch it. Wanted to touch him. The heat rolled off him in waves, and it was like a beacon. He tightened his grip on his cup.

“Whew, I think that’s enough dancing for me,” Scott said, puffing out his cheeks, “You should have joined us, it’s not fair that you escaped.”

“Bobbie knows better than to ask me,” Kandros said, “Two left feet. She values her toes too much.”

Scott laughed, bright and toothy, “You genius, why didn’t I think of that?”

“I saw you up there, I don’t think she would have believed you if you pretended you couldn’t dance,” Kandros said. Scott couldn’t hear it, but it didn’t stop him from loading his range with flattery.

“You thought that was-- what, good?” Scott said, his brows lifting, “Wow. You really  _ must _ have two left feet.”

In truth, Kandros couldn’t really tell. He didn’t know what measure of skill dancing was judged by, not for humans anyway - but they moved so differently from turians, and he liked it. Of course he did. They were looser, more graceful, with a lower center of gravity that kept them well balanced. He didn’t know how they could be so nimble on flat feet, but he knew all about the way Scott could swing his hips, and how weightless he looked when Bobbie had spun and dipped him. 

“You know, I believe I still owe you a drink,” Kandros said, slowly, carefully. Scott seemed to perk up at the suggestion.

“Yeah, I think you do,” he said, turning in his chair to face him a little better, “Don’t forget the ice.”

 

\--

 

One drink became three, but the ice was always melted long before Scott could finish up because they spent more time talking than drinking - or more accurately, Scott talked and Kandros mostly listened. He wasn’t exactly the chatty type himself, but Ryder was more than capable of filling up any dead air. 

“Listen to me go on and on again, I’m sorry,” Scott said for what was probably the third time that evening, “You’ve barely been able to get a word in edgewise.”

Kandros bobbed his head and flared a little, “Honestly, I’m enjoying it. It’s nice to hear what’s going on out there, I haven’t been able to get off the Nexus much since I got this position. Sometimes I even miss it.”

“You know, it feels good to talk to someone who isn’t part of the Tempest crew. Nothing against them of course, but you know how it is when you’re working together. Usually it would be Sara’s ear I’d be talking off but, well--” Scott gave a one-shouldered shrug, “You’re the lucky victim tonight.”

“Luckier than you know,” Kandros said. At some point during the conversation, he had hooked his arm over the back of Ryder’s chair, caging him against the wall. The human didn’t seem to mind, so Kandros hadn’t moved it. He flexed his claws until one of them brushed the back of Scott’s neck - a minute gesture, yes, but they both knew the importance of first contact better than most.

Kandros desperately wished he knew what that subtle shift in Scott’s expression meant exactly, but he figured it had to be something good by the way his mouth slanted into a coy, curling smile. He let the tips of his sensitive little fingers touch Kandros’ thigh, “Hey, do you want to go somewhere a little quieter?”

 

\--

 

They made it to hydroponics before Kandros had to stop, crowding Ryder against a glass trough that was just out of sight and no more. Scott wanted discretion, sure, he got that: he was the Pathfinder, and on a place as insular - and frankly boring - as the Nexus, gossip was a prime currency. Kandros agreed but there was only so much a turian could take when he’d been holding himself back all night. He didn’t even touch him, not yet. His claws clicked against glass as he braced his hands on either side of Scott’s head and leaned down, making no secret of breathing him in.

The tang of salt from the sweat he worked up while dancing, an underlying scent that was clean and semi-sweet like soap or perfume, and beyond that - something warm, something unmistakably human. Kandros wanted to bury his face against Scott’s neck and scent him, mark him as his own. 

More accurately, more intensely, he wanted to  _ be _ marked. 

“What are you doing?” Scott asked, voice barely more than a whisper. His cheek were red like he’d been dancing again; his hands twitched in front of him as though he wanted to touch Kandros, but he didn’t know what game they were playing, “I thought we were going to your--”

“Kiss me,” Kandros said. The word were strangled by his subvocals so they came out more as a growl than anything, “Kiss me and I’ll take you anywhere.”

There it was again, another phantom expression: lips parted, maybe in surprise, maybe in fear. Desire, Kandros hoped; lust. Scott’s small hands rose up to brace Kandros’ face, his fingers hooking behind his mandibles to draw him down. He wasn’t especially tall for a turian, painfully average in fact, but he still had an easy foot on the human and it was intoxicating. 

He mimicked Scott’s gesture, hands cupping cheeks as their foreheads touched, their noses brushed. He could feel his breath against his maw, so close yet so far as a hairbreadth of space quivered between them like neither one dared to bridge it. Finally -  _ finally  _ \- there was the press of soft lips against his hard mouth, hesitant and childish, almost chaste if it wasn’t for the hot, slick tongue that followed, probing at first, then demanding. Kandros gave into those demands so easily, let Scott take the lead and tried to follow his example. 

It was everything Kandros had thought it would be - more, even. He threaded his claws through Scott’s fine hair as the human sucked on his tongue, nimble fingers skirting under his jaws to caress the sensitive skin there. It made him flare in a wide turian smile, giddy, borderline overwhelmed in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Scott broke the kiss first, and turned his head to the side when Kandros tried to chase him for more. He seemed more sure of himself, perhaps since Kandros had given control over to him. He rested his hands on the lip of his carapace and lifted his chin, equal parts challenge and invitation, “Are you going to make me stand here all night?”

Instincts were telling him that Scott was ready, Scott was willing, Scott was  _ his _ and he should take him then and there among the strawberry plants. It was an easy enough instinct to ignore. He wanted to savour Ryder, to indulge him in a warm, comfortable bed where he could take his time. Besides, if he waited any longer he was going to soak through his pants.

 

\--

 

It felt strange to walk with Ryder and keep his hands to himself. He wanted to put an arm around his waist at least; better yet, he could have picked him up and put him over his shoulder like he weighed less than a soldier’s pack. Scott kept an arm's length of distance between them as they walked and it felt like a game, one he was increasingly too impatient to play.

Kandros had an apartment in a section of the living quarters just for higher ranking staff members. The rooms were bigger, the security better. Kandros knew his neighbours’ shift patterns well enough that he didn’t bother waiting for the door to shut behind them before he drew Scott close to him again. He nuzzled into the crook of his neck as his claws slipped under the hem of his shirt, urging him to take it off.

“What’s the rush?” Scott asked. It was obvious he was trying to play it cool but Kandros didn’t miss the quiver in his voice, “Got somewhere to be?”

“Nowhere but the bedroom,” Kandros said. Cheesy, but the half-laugh it wrung from Scott was worth it. 

He peeled the flimsy garment off slowly, and Kandros couldn’t keep his hands of the flesh that was revealed to him inch by pink and precious inch. Smooth, supple, mind-bogglingly unscarred for a man in his line of work. He ran the pad of one finger over the pink-ish pebbled nub on his breast and wondered at the sharp gasp it pulled from Scott. A nipple, it was called; another wonderful idiosyncrasy for males of the species. Kandros hadn’t expected it to be so sensitive but he was glad it was.

Keeping his eyes on Scott’s face, Kandros bent down and ran his rough tongue slowly over the same nipple. Small hands grabbed at his carapace like they wanted him to stop; he paused with a questioning twitch of his mandibles, waiting for direction.

“Hey, just-- watch the teeth, alright?” Scott said. Kandros raised his brows. His teeth weren’t anywhere near his skin, he knew better than that. The realisation was unpleasant but not unexpected: Scott was nervous. Worse, he was _ afraid _ .

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Kandros said. He deliberately softened his flange as much as he could like he was speaking to a child; other turians would find it immensely patronising but for human ears, maybe it didn’t sound so harsh. He pressed his mouth to the center of Scott’s chest, just for a second. If he had lips, it would have been a kiss. He hoped Scott knew that, “I’ll be good, I’ll-- I’ll be gentle.”

A shiver ran through Ryder, but he ran his hands from Kandros’ carapace to the back of his neck, fingertips skirting beneath his fringe - that, he assumed, meant it was a good thing. On a whim, Kandros suddenly lifted Ryder, coaxing his legs to hook onto his hips to steady him; Scott clung to him desperately like he was afraid to be dropped, but he was in no danger. He was heavier than he looked - a solid, reassuring weight - but it was still maybe half what an adult turian weighed, and they’d all had to carry a brother in basic.

He took his time carrying him through to the bedroom, enjoying the weight of him in his arms. They couldn’t kiss because his carapace was in the way, but that didn’t stop Scott from exploring the planes of his face with careful, dexterous fingers. When they drifted closer to his mouth, curious but cautious, Kandros licked one of them. Scott gave a hum of approval when he nearly managed to curl it right around the tip of his finger, and Kandros laughed.

“You like that?” Kandros asked, still grinning. If he was showing too many teeth, Scott didn’t seem to mind - when Kandros placed him with the utmost care in the center of the bed, it became startlingly apparent he was fully aroused, his hard cock straining against the fabric of his pants. Kandros traced the outline of it with a single claw to make him squirm - so humans really  _ did _ like being picked up, “Want to see what else it can do?”

“Yeah. Yes,” Scott managed to fumble out. He kicked off his shoes and began to undo his pants, apparently eager to be free of them. Kandros envied how easy it was for humans to undress in a hurry, “Please.”

“Please,” Kandros echoed, amused. He knocked Scott’s hands away and undid them himself, quietly proud of getting the button on the first try. He hooked a claw under the waistband on either side and began to pull down. No underwear, he noted as Scott’s cock sprang free and slapped against his belly, as pink and flushed as the rest of him. Kandros couldn’t help but wonder if that was just his preference - not uncommon among soldiers who spent all day in under-armor, he knew - or if he had came out that evening with plans in mind. 

Scott wore an edge of hunger as he propped himself up to watch Kandros undress him that made it impossible to know for sure. Even so, there was a vulnerability there - a lingering uncertainness, though without a trace of self-consciousness. Scott made no effort to shy away from him or hide any part of his body, sprawled out as he was. For that, Kandros was immensely grateful, because he was  _ beautiful _ .

Beyond beautiful, really, plucked right out of Kandros’ fantasies - some of them about Scott, some of them not, but all of them realised right there among his starched sheets and hard pillows. Kandros coaxed him to lie back flat, to make himself comfortable. Scott’s chest rose and fell quickly, fluttering like a wounded animal, and he marvelled at how-- how  _ alive  _ humans looked, for want of a better term. He put his hands on his chest and he could feel the shallowest breath, feel his heart racing; spirits, he could even see his pulse at his neck and in his cock. Everything was so near the surface, so unprotected and vital. How they could ever be relaxed in anything but full armor, Kandros would never know.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Scott asked. 

“Like what?” Kandros asked in return. He had been staring but he could hardly help himself; he was fully open, only the fabric of his pants keeping him from descending entirely and he was starting to soak through.

“Like you’re going to eat me,” he said. 

Kandros settled himself between Scott’s spread legs, half-lying down, and dragged his hands from his chest down to his soft belly, “I might.”

He squeezed gently - no claws, but it was still enough to leave faint imprints. He traced the same path with his tongue, light enough to tease as he skirted over the ‘button’ and mouthed at the wiry trail of hair that lead below it. He pretended not to notice the way Scott less-than-subtly rocked his hips, rubbing his cock against the front of Kandros’ uniform. There was no rush, they had all night and Kandros fully intended to use it.

Kandros made it to the crease at the top of Scott’s thigh - no teeth, of course, no teeth at all, even if he sort of wanted to nip at such tender flesh - before he stopped him with a hand on his fringe. Kandros looked up at Scott looking down; the human seemed tongue tied, his face was redder than he’d ever seen it before. Kandros stroked the meat of his thighs and let him take his time.

“Do we have to worry about allergic reactions?” he asked, rubbing the spiny ridges as he spoke like Kandros could feel it.

“No, not really. People who were born or raised off-planet usually don’t have any issues, especially if you’ve interacted with other species. Builds a tolerance,” Kandros said, “Besides, you already sucked on my tongue, Ryder. You would have found out by now.”

“You know a lot about this,” Scott said, “More than I do, anyway.”

“It pays to be prepared,” Kandros said. He left out the part where he’d learned that in a forum thread on sex tourism on earth. Figured Scott didn’t need to know.

“Yeah? Who you been preparing for?” Scott said with a coy grin. His words were bold but his voice was low, and Kandros could only laugh. Even after all that research, he’d never went through with it. Never had the time or the money, but now he had Scott and he knew what he wanted to do to him.

“Do me a favour, hold your legs like this,” Kandros said, hooking his hands beneath Scott’s knees and pushing them up, very nearly folding him in half and leaving him so perfectly exposed. Scott’s grin disappeared quickly like that, his hands clumsy as they fumbled for position; his fingers skittered over Kandros’, entwining just for a moment, seeking reassurance or perhaps just expressing eagerness.

Cute, Kandros thought. Humans were so spirits-damned  _ cute _ .

He then thought of his fantasy during the APEX mission earlier that day, of having Scott in his bed exactly like this, on his back, legs spread. He’d told himself ‘one day’; he hadn’t quite expected it to be  _ that  _ day _.  _ What would Scott say if he knew he’d been watching him like that? If maybe it hadn’t been just a once off either? Maybe he wouldn’t feel so vulnerable if he knew how much Kandros wanted him, and for how long. Maybe it would make it worse. 

Kandros should have felt a pang of guilt then, but he didn’t; he dipped down and ran his tongue over his exposed entrance, dragging a moan from him, just like he had imagined. Scott’s thighs twitched around his head like he wanted to close his legs but Kandros didn’t move. He kept a hand on either cheek, thumbs holding him open so he had had better access, and did it again. It wasn’t too different from what he’d done to other turians - a firm, slow rolling motion, a slick and relentless back and forth  - but spirits, it felt different.

Scott’s hands were on his fringe again, holding him in place, pulling him closer. They had only just started and already he wanted more, canting his hips to push himself against Kandros’ thick, dextrous tongue - and if he wanted more, well, Kandros would happily give it to him. He teased his hole with just the tip before probing further, nudging his way inside by inches. Scott was so hot and tight around his tongue, Kandros thought he was going to lose his mind just imagining how good he would feel around his cock. 

He tried his best to communicate some of that enthusiasm without saying a word; judging by the way Scott moaned and arched off the bed entirely, he assumed he got the message. When he reached to touch himself, Kandros knocked his hand away with a soft growl of warning. He didn’t pay much attention to his weak protests, cute as they were; he had plans for Scott. He could cum on Kandros’ tongue, his fingers, or his cock - what sort of turian would he be if he let him cum in his own hand?

He pushed his tongue in as far as possible, his face flat against Scott’s ass. He rolled his tongue, twisted it as much as he could until Scott’s hips were twitching, his fingers curling in empty air, so desperate to touch himself for a little relief. Kandros took pity on him; he slid one hand up Scott’s though, around to his cock. He took him in a deliberately loose grip, stroked him lightly, just enough to tease.

“Kandros,” Scott said, very nearly a whine. He had his hands on his face, “Kandros, c’mon.”

Kandros pulled his tongue out of him, drawing out another moan with it. He rubbed his cheek against Scott’s thigh and slanted his jaws smugly, “What is it? Use your words, Ryder.”

“Fuck me,” he said bluntly, and Kandros couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. He had been expecting something coy, something shy that he’d have to coax out of him. What he got was close enough to a demand to catch him off guard. So quick to get over his trepidation - Kandros should have known better.

With a parting squeeze of Scott’s cock, Kandros pushed himself onto his knees and began to undress himself. He took his time - not that turians could really rush to undress anyway, too many pointy bits and fastenings - and enjoyed the way Scott’s eyes followed his hands like he was trying to will them back onto his body by telekinesis. He tossed his tunic aside and quickly undid the side-ties on his pants; he didn’t bother taking them all the way off, just pushed them down around his thighs. The damp fabric stuck to his skin, but it was a relief to finally free himself.

He drew his aching, leaking cock into his hand and stroked himself a few times, just enough to gather a little slick on his fingers. He had worked Scott open well with his tongue but it wouldn’t be enough, not without running the risk of hurting him. Kandros pressed one blunted claw against him, into him, watched the way his lips parted in quiet pleasure - well, he’d never been great at taking risks.

Scott propped himself up onto his elbows and Kandros nearly pushed him flat again, but he gave a single shake of his head. 

“If I can’t touch myself--” he said and trailed off as he wrapped his slim fingers around Kandros’ cock. He seemed to marvel at its texture, so smooth and slick compared to his own, thicker at the base and tapered towards to tip. His lips parted and for a heart-stopping moment, Kandros thought he was going to use his mouth on him, but he just grinned instead, “Feels weird. I like it.”

Kandros crooked his finger in response, causing Scott’s amused expression to crease into a gasp of pleasure, “You’re going to like it a lot more in a second.”

“Please,” Scott whined, “Please.”

That was enough. Kandros pulled his finger out of Scott, knocked his hand away. He repositioned himself, grabbed him by the thighs so he could pull him closer, legs spread. He reached over and took one of the pillows from the top of the bed, and Scott lifted his hips so he could stuff it beneath them. He couldn’t help but get distracted again by the way he was laid out, hands now above his head, cock curving up his stomach and a warm smile on his face. Scott wiggled impatiently, bumping his hip with his foot, and Tiran laughed his apology - but that laughter dried up on his tongue as he finally, spirits  _ finally _ , pushed into him in one smooth, steady stroke.

It was a beautiful sight to see the way Scott’s eyes went wide, but Tiran could barely appreciate it; all he could truly focus on was how tight, how warm, how perfect it felt to finally be inside of him. He was softer, hotter than anyone he had ever been with before, and the sensation was instantly intoxicating. It was just how he imagined a human would feel, maybe even better. Tiran began to rock his hips, slowly at first - he didn’t want to hurt Scott, so easy to break, so easy to bruise - with his hands gripping his fleshy thighs for leverage. Each thrust knocked a breathless moan from his lips like he was the best thing in the cluster, and he had to stop that from going to his head. 

“Are you--” he began, and Scott nodded earnestly before Tiran could find the brain cells to string the rest of the sentence together.

“I’m fine,” he said, voice edged and spun out, “I’m fine, I’m-- I’m good. I can take more. Harder.”

Tiran gave a grunt of acknowledgement, kept his jaws close to his maw: the invitation was there but he wouldn’t be that turian, the one that rutted and scratched and left their alien lovers rubbed raw and clawed to bits. He was better than that - Scott deserved better than that. It took an iron will but he kept his pace steady, firm but not too hard. He released one of Scott’s thighs to drag a hand down his chest, blunted claws leaving the faintest marks that would fade in seconds; he took his sweet pink cock in a loose fist and stroked it in time with each thrust, or as close as he could manage.  

Scott put his hand over Tiran’s, squeezed it until his grip was tight enough for him, held it there so he could take his pleasure. He tried to keep his eyes on him but he couldn’t, let his head fall back against the pillow with a heart-felt sight; Tiran couldn’t reach forward to kiss him even as much as he wanted to, but he leaned forward as far as his carapace would let him, close enough that he could draw the tip of his long tongue over the slack seam of Scot’s soft and wanting mouth. 

Scott came like that, suddenly and silently with Tiran on his lips, spilling into their shared fist so that every thrust sounded perfectly obscene. Kandros couldn’t help but laugh at the weak noises he made as he kept rocking into him, such adorably human sounds. With Scott’s driving urgency fading away, he felt less guilty about indulging his desire to touch and pet and admire. His own end was approaching like a wave about to crash on the shore, powerful and unstoppable, but he tried to hold off for as long as he could - he didn’t know when the next time he’d get to enjoy this would be, if ever.

“Kandros,” Scott urged, his voice border-line raspy as he stroked his fingers up his neck to press sweet fingers at the hinge of his maw, “Tiran, c’mon. You can come in me if you want. If you’re sure it won’t make me sick. Do you want to cum in me?”

Kandros grunted in affirmation: of course he wanted to finish in him, and of course it wouldn’t make him sick. He’d never do anything to put Scott at risk, he’d never so so careless, he’d never--

When he came, he came so hard he accidentally tore a hole in his own sheets when he grabbed a handful of them to stop himself from grabbing Scott instead. Pelvis flush against him, he filled him up so wholly that the clear, viscous cum began to ooze out of him before Kandros could even pull out, streaking his thighs and staining the already-ruined bedsheets; they both groaned at the sensation, one Kandros though he could drown in as Scott clenched and twitched around him. 

He stayed like that for as long as he could before he sat back on his heels, his cock slipping free from Scott in a glut of slickness that made his slit throb even as it relaxed closed again. Unable to resist, he brace his thumbs on either side of Scott’s hole, spread it a little, marvelled at the way it clenched desperately on empty air until he grumbled in objection, pressing his thighs together and nudging Kandros away with his feet.

He caught his eye and held it, blinked once, slow and deliberate in a flagrant show of turian affection that he didn’t care if Scott understood or not. He then shifted to lie beside him, kicking out of his trousers that were still tangled around his leg spurs; all the while Scott watched him with heavy-lidded eyes and a half smile.

“You know, that wasn’t exactly what I expected when I took a turian home,” he said, and Kandros frowned.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Scott shrugged.

“I just thought you’d be more, you know--” Scott bared his teeth and made a sort of clawing motion with one hand, and Kandros couldn’t decide if he was offended by that or not.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” he said, suddenly feeling a little awkward. Scott laughed and put a hand on his chest, leaned in for a kiss that wasn’t fully returned.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, “It was nice. It was very sweet.”

“Sweet,” Kandros repeated. If he had been human, his face might have went red, but he wasn’t; he was turian, and Scott wouldn’t be able to hear the bleeding embarrassment in his subvocals, “Thanks.”

They lay there in not-so-comfortable silence until Scott apparently came through the other-side of whatever loose-boned haze he’d been in. He sat up, scratched his belly, looked around for his clothes; Kandros kept his jaws close to his maw as he watched him.

“You’re not going to--?”

“Ah, well, you know,” Scott said as he picked up his shirt and pulled it on, “Early start tomorrow. You know how it is. But this was fun! This was nice, we should do this again sometime. Maybe.”

“Maybe,” Kandros repeated, his stomach sinking lower. Scott’s smile was as bright as ever.

“Yeah. Anyway, don’t get up, I’ll show myself out,” he went on as he zipped up his trousers and quickly jammed on his boots. He didn’t seem too bothered about not pretending to be in a hurry, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tiran.”

He slipped out of the sleeping quarters and Tiran’s apartment without any further fuss, leaving him to stew in his stained, ripped bedsheets. He sighed and stacked his pillows enough that he could lie on his back without crushing his fringe, free to stare somewhat morosely at the plain white ceiling. Resilient, soft, cute, expressive - if humans were one thing, it was fickle.


End file.
